


Butterflies

by secants



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secants/pseuds/secants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You first," Neal says with a coy smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies

"Caffrey," Jones calls as he pokes his head into the kitchenette. Neal is sitting on the counter, idly folding a piece of notebook paper.

"Yeah?" Neal bites his lip and furrows his brow in concentration.

"Peter needs you. Says he's got a new case."

Neal nods and moves to stand up, wincing when his spine clicks audibly into alignment. He pockets his unfinished art project before striding past Jones and continuing into Peter's office. Unsurprisingly, the office is empty, a beach paradise screensaver illuminating Peter's computer.

Neal plants himself on Peter's desk, absentmindedly flipping through his stack of case files. He gleans something interesting about a pink diamond before placing the file back on top of the pile and reaching into his pocket to continue folding. He glances out of Peter's window while he creases the tiny sheet of paper, eyes lingering on the ant-sized cars speeding along city streets. His leg bounces out of habit, bumping against a photo of Peter and Elizabeth.

"You're awfully quiet this morning. Functioning alright without your usual gourmet coffee?" Peter's voice greets him a minute later when he appears in the door’s threshold. His attention is thoroughly occupied by the contents of a navy folder.

Smiling, Neal raises an eyebrow to retort, "Good morning to you too, Peter. Sounds like someone is still bitter that they have to drink the sludge from the office." 

The file snaps shut and Peter's attention shifts to the folded figure in Neal’s fingers. He groans in recognition, "Neal, you gotta quit giving me these stupid butterflies."

"You first," Neal says with a coy smile. He slides down from his perch on the desk, creeping dangerously inside Peter’s personal bubble. The FBI agent frowns in disapproval, sending Neal his patented warning glare. But before Peter has a chance to chastise him, Neal pulls away abruptly and nestles his newest paper craft in Peter’s hands, trading it for the case files. He risks a wink before slipping out the door.

"What are you talking about?" Peter asks. He peers down at the lined butterfly, inspecting it with a critical eye. "How do you do that?"

Then, as if just realizing that his consultant swiped the files and left without him, "Hey, get back here! Caffrey!"

**Author's Note:**

> a reworked fic that was first posted on the caffrey_burke livejournal community many years ago, so if it looks familiar that is why. thanks for reading.


End file.
